


The Heart of a Marriage

by Ladderofyears



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Draco loves Astoria, F/M, Formal Dining, Formalwear, Married Couple, Scandal Kink, Sneaking Around, So Much In Love, semi-public oral sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 17:26:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18609148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladderofyears/pseuds/Ladderofyears
Summary: Astoria has a scandal kink, and loves sneaking Draco away for some extra fun away whenever they attend black-tie events.Tonight, it's the Ministry Beltane Ball, a stuffy, old fashioned Wizarding occasion, and she's determined once more to get her husband alone...





	The Heart of a Marriage

**Author's Note:**

> Astoria Malfoy is such a brilliant character, but so many stories about her concentrate on her role as a mum, or about her death, leaving me to wish there were more about who _she_ was. I often imagine her as a very vivacious, funny person whom Draco would have been absolutely fascinated by. A person who never stopped surprising him.

Draco thought that Astoria had never looked more divine than she did on the evening of the Ministry’s Beltane Ball. 

Her chiffon, sequinned evening dress seemed to glimmer beneath the enchanted fairy lights, and her thick, ebony-black hair tumbled into glossy curls that seemed, somehow, to defy gravity. 

Her smiling face seemed to glow with pleasure, and in Draco’s mind there could never have been another being created who was innately more beautiful. He felt as if Merlin, and Circe, and all their wizarding deities had conjured Story entirely to his desires, as if his wife was composed of light, and beauty. 

And Astoria’s wide brown eyes were terribly full of _mischief_ tonight. 

Story’s soft, aristocratic lips beheld a terribly cheeky smirk, which Draco knew from previous formal occasions could only mean that his wife had planned something entirely devious. 

Astoria really was a consummate little Slytherin, her cunning only outdone by her resourcefulness, and Draco could only _wonder_ at what festivities Astoria had dreamt up for their evening. 

His wife and himself were sat at the three-course dinner preceding the Beltane Ball; a terribly old fashioned and formal occasion where the old, the wealthy and the vainglorious gathered to brag about how they were still the masters of the Wizarding world. It was the sort of social function his father would have adored, but the Ball left Draco entirely cold.

Draco cared only for Astoria’s embrace, her company and her love. She was Draco’s saviour; his family. His one enduring grace.

Draco was roused from these thoughts by his wife standing, and pulling him gently by the hand, to stand beside her. As always, Astoria was the embodiment of charm to their table, explaining that _she really must get some air, that they wouldn’t be gone long_. Utter fibs, of course, but Draco schooled his face into a mask of concern, letting his wife take the lead as they exited the ballroom. 

But, instead of slipping away down the hallway like he’d imagined she might, Draco found his arm being seized, and Astoria pulling him with a determined tug into the half-dark of the cloakroom.

“Story?” Draco hissed, allowing himself be drawn into the corner of the room. His voice was suddenly loud away the loud chatter of the ballroom, and he make an effort to dampen it down, not wanting to attract any attention to their situation. “Mind letting me in on your scheme here?” 

Turning her body to face him, it seemed Astoria didn’t care to reply immediately. Instead, she cast a _Lumos_ with her wand, and set it down beside them both. No silencing spell, Draco noticed, and he knew that was part of the pleasure Astoria always took in these risky encounters. 

She twisted an arm slowly around Draco’s waist, and coiled the front of his robes in the other. 

Moving her body impossibly closer, she whispered in his ear, her warm breath tickling his throat “You look _magnificent_ in those formal robes, Mr. Malfoy. Ravishing. I’ve wanted to have you all to myself since we left the Manor. It was _all_ I could do not to cause the biggest scandal the of the year-”

And Draco couldn't help but interrupt her, laughing as he brought their lips together in a heated kiss. Her lips beneath his were forceful, _wanting_ , and Draco could feel the erotic charge between them; feel her magic enveloping him and flowing through him. Astoria was a powerful witch, and Draco could feel her drawing more strength from him, the intensity of the moment prickling his skin, making him hard. 

“So, Mrs. Malfoy. You’re looking to seduce me?” Draco teased, playing Astoria’s favourite game. She was his perfect, aristocratic debutant who so loved to dominate, to seduce and take her pleasure from her husband whenever she decided. 

And Astoria loved nothing more than to risk a scandal, the more _salacious_ the better. 

The Beltane Ball would be a crowing achievement for her kink; the most traditional, courtly event of the calendar. Were they to be caught _in flagrante delicto_ it would be quite the scandal indeed. 

“I already have, Draco,” she murmured, “I seduced you the very first moment we met.” Leaning over to kiss him, Story’s tongue was delicious next to his. Their mouths met in a frantic push and pull where each fought to dominate the other. 

And Draco knew the truth of his wife's statement; knew himself to be utterly seduced and beguiled by Astoria. As they kissed, Draco felt like he was disappearing into Astoria, felt like their bodies and minds were in perfect alignment. She was his; and he pulled away from the kiss to remind her. 

“You’re _mine_ , Story. My wife. My soulmate. My Story. You’re mine,” and it wasn’t ownership or possession that made Draco speak so. It was their sacred bond, the love that had knotted, tangled enchantment that had wrapped around each of their hearts. Draco held his tongue, holding back on his primal urge to whisper his wife’s name aloud while they kissed. 

He raised his hands to seize hold of his wife; stroking the smooth, pure-blooded plains of her face. Then, smirking, Draco pulled his lips away, choosing to focus his attentions on the sensitive skin just below her earlobe, kissing and biting; pleased that he too was able to elicit the tiniest whimper of pleasure. Astoria dropped to her knees, giving Draco a scandalised grin of her very own. 

And the sensation of Story curling her fingers around his confined cock, stroking him through the thick material of his dress trousers, was more sensual than anything else Draco could remember. Astoria’s pace was maddeningly slow, her hands an utter tease, but there was enough friction to make Draco bite hard on his lip, and dampen his silk boxers in slick pre-cum. 

“ _Fuck, Story,_ ” he moaned, with anguished pleasure, letting his head drop back against the wall as he watched his wife take her sweet time. Draco watched with reverence as her long, elegant fingers caressed his impossibly hard prick, and as she reached over, finally, to undo his button. 

“Careful now, Mr. Malfoy,” she cautioned sibilantly into his ear, “you don’t want anyone to _hear_ us.” 

At that, she reached inside Draco’s trousers and pulled his length free; ruddy, thick and heavy in his wife’s hands. 

Draco screwed his eyes shut, surrendering to the pleasure are she took the head in her perfectly soft, lipsticked mouth. Her tongue was soft and delicate as she explored, sucking and licking, tonguing his slit and playing with his foreskin. Draco felt a quiver run down his spine as he let his orgasm start to build and grow, those familiar tendrils of pleasure starting to coil as Story skilfully worked him open, sexually and emotionally. 

The sounds of the Beltane Ball were close by. Draco could hear the arrogant and wealthy of Wizarding society gorging and gossiping themselves into oblivion. _How easily they could be discovered_ , he thrilled; overwhelmed once more at the beautiful, enticing woman in front of him. 

The rest of their world dismissed Astoria, choosing to see only her blood malediction and her Death Eater husband. _Broken, ailing and sickly_. Even his father had disapproved of their match, his raging temper at their engagement a sight to behold. But Draco had known, known from their very first meeting that he loved this vivacious, clever, _kinky_ woman. He’d known too, that he’d spend as many summers as she had left on the Earth with the sole aim of making her happy. 

Draco didn’t, _couldn’t_ last long. He was too aroused, caught up in the excitement of the moment, and the exhilaration of their risky situation, tipping over the edge within a few minutes. It took every atom of self control that Draco had to keep quiet, his whole body writhing, and overstimulated. He pitched his hips forward, clutching his hands so tightly on Astoria’s shoulders that he knew he’d leave bruises. Draco brought up one of his hands, biting his knuckles as Story took him deeply, swallowing down his cum with a smile that told him how much she’d wanted every drop. 

Draco stood there, breathless and red faced whilst his wife tucked him back in, spelling his clothes straight and buttoning him tidily, murmuring a cooling enchantment that furled over their bodies, familiar and intricate. She took care of her own outfit, running a deft hand down the delicate curves of her dress. Story’s lipstick, crimson as the roses in the Manor Gardens, was flawless, charmed into place. 

Draco offered Astoria his arm, ever the gentleman his mother had raised him to be. 

“We really need to be getting back, my darling,” Draco said, learning over to press a small, chaste kiss on the side of his wife’s cheek. “The great and the good will be wondering what's become of us… We wouldn’t want to become the subject of rumourmongers and tabloids. Well. No more than we are already.”

“Merlin, no!,” Astoria laughed, her eyes wide in amusement. “Lets return then, and enjoy the rest of our evening then, their sympathetic sighs and sneering side glances be _damned_.” She squeezed his arm, and Draco couldn’t understand how it would be possible for any soul to be more deeply in love than he was with Astoria. 

Draco and Astoria Malfoy returned to the Beltane Ball, resuming their polite, reserved and utterly formal evening as if nothing had happened. Astoria agreed that _yes, the fresh air had done her the world of good_ , looking demurely towards her husband for his agreement. 

If anyone had noticed their absence, no other witch or wizard chose to comment, and aside from mentioning their presence, even the _Daily Prophet_ failed to criticise their behaviour. 

And certainly, nobody thought to remark on the knowing smiles that passed between the two of them as they danced, well into the small hours of the morning. 

What secrets lie in the heart of a marriage is, after all, no-one else's business.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading xxxx


End file.
